In that instant, Fu Yuhan felt a strange sensation pass through his heart.
He felt that sentence might not be about Yang Fan.
Wen Yu was always like this—every sentence he spoke seemed to have deeper meaning, hidden beneath his mask-like unwavering smile, vague and unclear, making people unable to see clearly and requiring effort to guess.
Exhausting.
Fu Yuhan didn’t like this.
So even though almost everyone praised him, Fu Yuhan always disliked Wen Yu.
He wasn’t as simple-minded as Yang Fan and couldn’t cheerfully become friends with Wen Yu.
Suddenly losing interest in continuing the conversation, Fu Yuhan lowered his eyes and dropped a line: “I’m leaving.”
He turned around, his school uniform wrinkled by the movement, looking very thin. Wen Yu unconsciously frowned and called out to him: “Hey, skipping class every day won’t get you into T University.”
“Even if I don’t skip, I still can’t get in.” Fu Yuhan said as he walked away.
Wen Yu stood there watching for a while.
He was lost in thought and didn’t realize he was standing in the most well-connected spot. Before long, someone patted his shoulder. Wen Yu turned around and saw Xu Qianyi standing behind him: “They came to tell me that you and Fu Yuhan arranged another fight?”
Wen Yu: “…”
He was speechless. Xu Qianyi also looked helpless: “I’ve been switching between different people to chase and it’s always been fine, but I never thought saying I’d chase you would cause such big trouble.”
“Do you want to take it back?” Wen Yu asked.
“My image is already like this,” Xu Qianyi said. “Wouldn’t it be a loss if I don’t seriously chase you once?”
Wen Yu smiled and didn’t respond, returning to the classroom with her.
Fu Yuhan indeed didn’t come back for one class period, but fortunately it was only one period.
When class ended, Fu Yuhan came back from outside with a cold face, not mentioning a word about where he had gone.
Actually, he never mentioned it. Although Sun Wenrui and Fang Jiayuan in the front row had a good relationship with him, they didn’t dare ask either. This happened every day. However, today, Wen Yu rarely felt a trace of impatience.
Maybe it was because yesterday’s dinner with his father had affected his mood.
When his emotions were off, he was used to finding something proper to do. Throughout the day, he did another ten test papers, and by afternoon dismissal, Wen Yu had only three left.
He didn’t take his backpack, only brought his phone and keys back to his residence, leaving school earlier than usual.
The cooking auntie was just plating food and hadn’t left yet. Wen Yu greeted her when he entered, and suddenly remembering about the parent-teacher conference, he asked: “Auntie, do you have time Friday afternoon? Could you help me attend a parent-teacher conference?”
“You want me to go again?” The auntie looked a bit helpless. “Xiao Yu, this won’t do.”
“My grades are very good, the teacher won’t say anything.” Wen Yu said. “My dad doesn’t have time.”
“Mr. Wen really… sigh.”
Although this cooking auntie was hired from outside, she had worked for several years and was familiar with them. Wen Yu didn’t care much about parent-teacher conferences—anyone would do—so he asked her for help every year.
He had never mentioned this to Wen Ziming. The extra bonus for the auntie came from his own pocket. The auntie would nag him, but being an outsider after all, she would agree after saying a few words.
The freshly cooked food on the dining table gave off an aroma, but Wen Yu had little appetite. After the auntie left, he took a can of beer from the refrigerator, opened it, and walked to the window to drink it sip by sip.
The sky was still bright, with the setting sun’s afterglow shining on the small road not far away. From time to time, students wearing Third High uniforms would pass by.
Young students traveling in groups were naturally noisy, but the residential complex separated by a wall was very quiet. When buying the house, Wen Yu had taken a fancy to this “quietness.”
He enjoyed this rare alone time, but when his gaze swept over, he saw a person walking past on that small road.
Tall and upright, with medium-length black hair that made the skin on his cheeks look extremely pale.
Student Affairs Director Yao had repeatedly emphasized that “high school students should look like students” and carry backpacks to school. In the entire school, only Fu Yuhan brazenly carried a messenger bag everywhere. Without looking closely, Wen Yu knew that person was his good desk mate.
Fu Yuhan wasn’t walking fast, but his legs were long, and he soon disappeared at the end of the road. Wen Yu was stunned for a moment, casually placed the unfinished beer on the dining table, and walked into the bedroom.
The bedroom window faced a small road in another direction, and he indeed saw Fu Yuhan again from this side. For some reason, although Fu Yuhan’s walking posture hadn’t changed much, Wen Yu inexplicably sensed a trace of heaviness.
Where was he going?
Last time Fu Yuhan went home, he took the other direction, and the hospital was even further from this way.
It wasn’t until evening self-study began that Wen Yu had a chance to ask this question.
“Are you picking a fight with me now?” Fu Yuhan was slightly stunned, then quickly frowned. “Instead of spending time prying into my business, wouldn’t it be better to think about what birthday gift to give Yang Fan?”
Wen Yu might not have expected him to bring this up. After thinking, he asked: “Isn’t Yang Fan’s birthday in November?”
“I usually start thinking about it three months in advance.”
“…”
Wen Yu was momentarily stunned, then chuckled softly, but didn’t ask further.
Admittedly, perhaps questions could be answered through some simple and crude methods—like stalking—but Wen Yu didn’t plan to do that.
He heard that Fu Yuhan and Yang Fan had known each other since they were three, which was about fifteen years now. What kind of person would spend three months every year preparing birthday gifts for an unrequited love with no results?
—A fool.
Playing mind games with a fool would be overkill. Besides, this person’s state was as honest as white paper and wasn’t hard to guess.
For example, for two consecutive days when Wen Yu arrived at school, he found Fu Yuhan awake, not sleeping in class, and not randomly skipping classes. After asking a few class representatives, he learned all homework had been submitted. Wen Yu guessed his sister had been discharged from the hospital.
For another example, these past two days whenever Zhou Wenkang emphasized the parent-teacher conference, Fu Yuhan would become very low-pressure. Wen Yu guessed he still hadn’t resolved this matter.
However, more specific details were really impossible to guess—there was too little information.
Wen Yu thought for two days, sent a message to Yang Fan, and tried to probe indirectly. Unfortunately, Yang Fan, who was usually single-minded, was particularly tight-lipped about this matter, so he had to give up.
Anyway… anyway, he was only a little bit curious. It wasn’t worth mobilizing forces to find answers.
Just a little bit.
After school on Friday, parents gradually arrived, and students had to stay as well. When Wen Yu went to the school gate to pick up the auntie, he noticed that although Fu Yuhan had come downstairs, he didn’t walk toward the school gate.
It was as if he knew no one would come.
He even skipped the parent-teacher conference himself. When Zhou Wenkang was speaking eloquently above, Wen Yu didn’t even need to move an extra chair—he sat directly in Fu Yuhan’s empty seat.
The same old talk—Wen Yu had heard it many times. Although a standard “good student” should definitely sit properly and listen to teachings at parent-teacher conferences, his thoughts were wandering.
Fu Yuhan’s desk surface was different from his. Textbooks and study guides were almost all stacked on the desk surface like an impenetrable defensive fortification. The drawer was packed full of papers. At first, Wen Yu thought it was all unfinished test papers accumulated over time. Unexpectedly, when he randomly pulled one out, he actually pulled out a sketchbook.
Looking at the cover, it was the one Fu Yuhan had been using during their “fight appointment” at the empty building that day. Wen Yu liked to tease people, but he didn’t want to casually invade his privacy, so he stuffed the sketchbook back and pulled out the second book underneath.
It was a loose-leaf notebook.
Before opening it, Wen Yu thought it would be class notes. He was even thinking that Fu Yuhan was so casual in class yet still took notes. But when he opened it, those blank loose-leaf pages had clear lines—they were all drawings too.
A youth lying on a desk sleeping, with sunlight just right, illuminating his fluffy head.
A youth sitting on a park bench reading, with a cat lying on his lap.
A youth sitting on a swing, the swing chair flying high, his smile brilliant, with another youth standing behind pushing.
…
After flipping through three pages, Wen Yu suddenly closed the loose-leaf notebook.
His movement was a bit too big. The auntie, who was pretending to listen carefully, turned back to look at him and asked quietly: “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Wen Yu shook his head and stuffed the loose-leaf back as it was.
He was a bit dazed, and he rarely felt this dazed.
So this book was the real privacy, Wen Yu thought.
Those drawings were all of Yang Fan’s face, and moreover…
The first drawing of sleeping in class depicted not a First High classroom, but Third High’s, so perhaps… these drawings weren’t even sketches from life, but scenes Fu Yuhan had imagined during his long unrequited love.
“Auntie,” Wen Yu asked softly, “have you ever seen a fool?”
“What for?” The auntie looked left and right, lowered her voice and leaned close to him, afraid her words would be heard by other parents. “Are you going to criticize those students who didn’t do well on exams again? I’ve told you before this isn’t good. Maybe you have talent in studying, but others have talent in other areas? Don’t look down on them.”
“But,” he said in a low voice, “the last place in our class is really a bit foolish.”
The curtains around were drawn tightly. His face was somewhat blurred in the light and shadow of the projector, lost in thought.
The first parent-teacher conference for seniors was more like a gap-filling meeting. Even after it ended, many parents still surrounded Zhou Wenkang asking questions.
Wen Yu dominated with his score of 731, had no issues, and could leave as soon as it ended. Besides, the person who came wasn’t really a parent anyway—the cooking auntie had no need and no qualification to communicate with the homeroom teacher about his situation.
Before leaving the classroom, Wen Yu looked back and scanned around. The person responsible for locking the door still hadn’t returned.
“Xiao Yu, aren’t you leaving?” the auntie asked, turning back.
“I am.” Wen Yu said, “You go back first. I’ll walk around the school.”
“What about your dinner?”
“I won’t go back to eat. I’ll buy something outside later. You can get off work early.”
“Okay, then come home early and be safe.”
“Mm.”
Friday dismissal was early. Even though the parent-teacher conference had ended, the sun still hadn’t set.
The entire campus was bathed in gold, peaceful and serene.
Facing the setting sun, Wen Yu took out his phone and called Yang Fan.
“Hello, school’s out, right?”
“Don’t you know whether school’s out or not?” Yang Fan asked with a laugh. “What’s up? How come you have time to call today?”
“I just remembered something I wanted to ask you.”
“Go ahead.”
“How’s your progress with your goddess? Have you confessed yet?”
“…” Yang Fan said speechlessly, “You specially called just to ask this?”
“Oh, the Chinese teacher just talked about lyrical writing techniques, mentioning emotional expression.” Wen Yu casually found an excuse. “I was wondering what unrequited love feels like.”
“Bitter. Sweet and sour all mixed into one bitter word, and it’s self-inflicted bitterness.” On the other end of the phone, Yang Fan clicked his tongue twice, sounding both disgusted and sweet. “Every day looking at her, wondering if she’s doing well, wondering if she’ll like me, hoping she’ll accept me, but also afraid of being instantly rejected if I confess.”
“What if there’s someone…”
The first and second years had been dismissed for a while. Third High’s playground was a community open space, allowing community members to come play ball one hour after dismissal. At this time, almost all the basketball hoops on the court were occupied, and there were several people playing soccer on the field.
The setting sun shone from far away, with one beam converging into a light spot on the window frame of the empty building.
For a second, Wen Yu even thought about doing a good deed and helping Fu Yuhan confess.
However, at that moment, he saw a vague figure flash past the window under the light spot.
Having been here for half a month, Wen Yu also knew that behind the temporary wall across from the playground was a construction site, where workers might walk back and forth.
But he inexplicably connected that figure—which he wasn’t sure he had seen correctly—with Fu Yuhan.
“And then?” Yang Fan’s voice came through the receiver. “I’ve been waiting for your continuation forever, bro.”
“Ah, never mind.” Wen Yu smiled. “I was going to ask what you’d feel if someone had been secretly in love with you for a long time and you knew about it, but thinking about it, who would like you anyway?”
“Damn, is that something a human would say?”
“If someone liked you, wouldn’t you have gotten out of singlehood already?” Wen Yu said. “Alright, work hard pursuing your goddess. Try to be the first among us to escape singlehood.”
“Thanks for the blessing—” Yang Fan said. “Don’t overthink it either. Last week Teacher He gave us a composition book list that’s pretty useful. I’ll send it to you later. What real emotions are there to express in lyrical writing? Exams are just about following formulas.”
“Mm,” Wen Yu lowered his gaze and chuckled softly. “You’re right. To thank you for the book list, I’ll tell you something interesting.”
“What?”
“Third High is having a sports meet on Monday.”
“What does that have to do with seniors?” Yang Fan’s voice paused, gradually becoming horrified. “Holy shit, you seniors are having one too??”
“Mm.”
“Why?!”
**Author’s Note:** Made it by 12 o’clock!!
##
